


Burned But Not Buried

by ladyarcherfan3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyarcherfan3/pseuds/ladyarcherfan3
Summary: After everything, Obi-Wan fights with his guilt over failing Anakin.





	

The Jedi Temple is silent. It is never loud, save for in the crèche or the dining hall. But it had always hummed with life through the Force, until the very building seemed to be alive with the energy. Now it is silent, both to the ear and through the Force, at least on the surface.

Obi-Wan reaches out with the Force, and retreats with a sharp breath. The echoes of pain and fear were louder than any he had ever experienced before. Perhaps it was because the Temple had always been his home, and not a battlefield or an unfamiliar city on a different planet. He knows that he shouldn’t feel more attached to the Temple or the Jedi there than he did for the people he had helped over the course of his life, but he does. Attachment, despite everything he had tried to live and teach, has been a struggle in his life.

Yoda looks up at him, the weight of his gaze cutting through the haze in Obi-Wan’s mind. He clears his thoughts and shields himself against the pain. Physically, he shrinks further into his robe, letting the weight and warmth give him an illusion of comfort. Yoda’s gimer stick clicks on hard floors and echos through empty halls as they continues.

He can see shadowed lumps on the floor ahead, and he refuses to acknowledge what they could be. What they are. Until he is forced to confront the truth.

“Not even the younglings survived,” Obi-Wan whispers as they stop among the bodies.

“Killed not by clones, this padawan. By a lightsaber, he was,” Yoda says. His voice is heavy.

Terror and fear and pain run through Obi-Wan as he drops down to be on the same level as Yoda. “Who? Who could have done this?”

His shields drop as his emotions go wild. Even as he struggles against his own fear and sorrow, he feels a flicker in the Force, a cry of pain and anger and fear. It is a voice in the Force that he knew all too well. He springs to his feet with a strangled, wordless cry and runs; Yoda is left far behind as he races towards that Force signature.

Obi-Wan rounds a corner into a darkened hallway and staggers as he trips on several bodies of Clone troopers. He forces his steps to slow, his breath to calm. The Force signature he followed flickers in and out, and he stops, focusing. He can’t see any movement, but there are bodies all around him. The Force is silent again, save for the echoes of the slaughter.

A gasp. A rasping breath.

Obi-Wan spins and tries to pinpoint the sound. The breath rips through the silence, choking on the inhale, hissing on the exhale. At the same time, the Force blazes with a silent scream.

He races for it, and drops to his knees next to a body he could barely recognize. But the Force leaves him with no doubt.

_“Anakin.”_

Obi-Wan lifts Anakin’s head into his lap as gently as he could, but Anakin still gags and chokes at the movement, and a scream rips out of his throat even as Obi-Wan moves to comfort him. Tears burn in Obi-Wan’s eyes as he scans down Anakin’s body. There are burns everywhere, long swatches of red and black skin, charred beyond repair. It looked as if blasters had been fired at him from every angle, and he had tried to deflect them, and had only managed to turn them enough from striking fully. There are sharp, clean furrows on his arms and legs, the unmistakable wounds of a lightsaber that had been deflected or blocked. And there is a wound in his chest, deep and clean but fatal. It is like the wound that had killed Qui-Gon.

Tears blur his vision too much to see, and he fights them back. “Anakin. Who did this?”

Anakin fights for breath and struggles to focus on Obi-Wan’s face. “Too late…” he gasps.

“No, no, Anakin, we can…” he starts but bites back the rest of the words. There is no coming back from this. “Anakin, what happened?”

“More powerful…”

“But you fought bravely,” Obi-Wan says desperately, trying to soothe him. “But I must know, who did this?”

Anakin lifts a hand, reaching towards Obi-Wan’s face, and it is all Obi-Wan could do not to sob, as memories of Qui-Gon’s death flashed in his mind.

“It… it…” Anakin’s pained voice rises to a scream, impossibly loud and harsh. “It is your fault, it is always your fault!”

A lightsaber appears in Anakin’s hand and blazes bright.

Obi-Wan has less than a heartbeat to realize the blade was red, before Anakin snaps his hand up and drives the blade through Obi-Wan’s chest.

Obi-Wan screams as the pain fills and surrounds him. He see Anakin’s eyes go yellow, and then disappear into a black void.

And he woke up, screaming.

For several long minutes, he lay in his bed, clutching the rough sheets as he fought to separate the nightmare from reality. Eventually, his eyes picked out the contours of the synstone ceiling above him. His sleep clothes and bedding were soaked with sweat and he could feel tears drying in wide streaks down his face. The wind howled and threw sand against the thick walls of his tiny home; a sand storm had started since he’d fallen asleep.

With a shaky breath, he sat up, only to collapse forward again, face in his hands. Nightmares were something that had become a part of his reality since Mustafar. As if the reality wasn’t bad enough, his subconscious created scenarios that were even more awful. He slipped out of the bed and down to the floor. He rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes.

His meditation didn’t last long. A familiar voice floated across the Force.

“Your subconscious is wrong, you know.”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes slowly and looked up to see Qui-Gon’s Force ghost. “While I have learned not to argue with much of your wisdom, Master, but I don’t know if you are right here. If I had been a better master to Anakin, a better friend, I would have seen him taking the path to the Dark Side. I would have stopped him before some much tragedy happened.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “You carry too much guilt on your shoulders, Ob-Wan. The events that led to Anakin turning to the Dark Side were far reaching beyond your influence. Darth Sidious had his influence in every direction like a web, and you know this.”

“But I should have seen, should have known…” Obi-Wan started.

“Anakin made his choice. There was nothing else you could have done.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. No matter how often the topic came up - and it was often - they never agreed. Obi-Wan was certain that there was more he could have done. “He was the Chosen One - we all believed it. How can he have brought balance to the Force by choosing the Dark Side?”

“The Force is more far reaching, in length, depth, and breadth than even we can imagine,” Qui-Gon answered, calm. “We cannot see where these actions will lead. But I feel that you and Anakin will meet again.”

“Anakin is gone. Vader is all that is left,” Obi-Wan said. His gaze dropped and he noted, distantly, that his hands were clenched, knuckles white. He took a careful breath and relaxed.

“I don’t think you believe that, down at your heart of hearts.”

“Just because you’re one with the Force doesn’t make you omnipotent,” Obi-Wan snapped, but just as quickly, he controlled himself and apologized. After a long moment, we went on. “But there is no other option. Vader is all that is left; the alternative is too painful to contemplate.”

“Does it not give you some hope, that Anakin could still be recovered?”

  
Obi-Wan gave a bitter laugh. “That would mean that Anakin killed younglings, killed our fellow Jedi. That means that I cut apart my brother and left him, burning.” The laugh twisted into a sob. “That means I couldn’t kill him, so I did something even worse. I left him in agony and broken.”

“So this is about your own guilt?” Qui-Gon asked.

“And you said that my guilty subconscious was wrong.”

“I think you bear more guilt than is rightfully yours. I did not say all of it was unfounded. You must come to peace with that, Obi-Wan. You must release your guilt and pain into the Force, or you will only drive yourself mad.”

He snorted, an edge of real humor coming back into his voice and expression. “The locals already do think I am mad.”

“That is hardly my fault. You would not have to speak to me when there are others about who cannot see my presence in the Force.”

Obi-Wan allowed a smile. “I suppose I wouldn’t. But you are good company - for the most part - and it helps to have people think I am crazy. They might not think Jedi as fast.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his own smile ticking up one side of his lips. “That is true. But you should get some rest.”

Obi-Wan gestured to the still mussed bed behind him. “I just got up.”

“And you know that sleep was far from peaceful. The sandstorm is still going strong. There will be little else to do until the weather calms.”

“You have a good point.” He stood, stripped the sweaty bedding from the mattress and fetched a clean set.

It obviously made for more laundry, but he had gotten a deal on a sonic laundry unit along with a sonic dishwasher from the last group of Jawas that had come through the area. Not that he had much else to do beyond house work. Owen and Beru Lars had wanted Obi-Wan to stay away from them and Luke for everyone’s safety, and there were only so many times he could go either Mos Eisley or Toshe Station for supplies he didn’t really need before he’d get noticed and draw attention to himself.

Finished, he turned back to Qui-Gon’s ghost, who still sat in his meditation pose, eyes closed. Obi-Wan could feel the calm his master sent to him through the Force. “Thank you, again, Master.”

Qui-Gon opened his eyes and smiled. “You’re welcome. Rest. Mediate. Release your grief and pain and guilt. I am ever with the Force, and the Force is with you.”

Qui-Gon’s ghost disappeared, but his presence lingered in Obi-Wan’s mind for a little longer, as he settled down to sleep again. He knew that the nightmares would come back, but he hoped he’d be allowed more than a few hours rest. Sleep swept over him like a warm blanket, and he wondered if Qui-Gon had something to do with it.

As he sank into sleep, thoughts and impressions tangled around in his mind. But they were not dark and painful, as was far too often the case. Qui-Gon’s words about hope for Anakin left an edge of light and warmth behind. It was like a faint echo of Anakin’s own Force signature, which had always blazed hot and bright as the sky of Tatooine at midday. This was a softer touch, like the warm binary sunset; it was soft and fuzzy, an untrained and young Force signature, but undeniable all the same.

Perhaps there was another reason he was meant to bring Luke to Tatooine; he had to watch over him, but it might have been the Force guiding him find a way to let go of the guilt and pain. Perhaps Qui-Gon was right, and there was hope. If not for Anakin, at least there was a new hope, that peace could be found in his heart and Anakin’s children could live good lives. Then he was asleep, and the rage of Tatooine continued to batter at his home, but for now, there was only peace and rest inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to glorious_clio for her beta work and suggestions. Also for her idea that Luke's Force signature appears as the binary suns of Tatooine, which I have adopted as a good headcanon.
> 
> Title from the song Which Witch by Florence + The Machine.


End file.
